


Prince of the Sea

by blackjacktheboss



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackjacktheboss/pseuds/blackjacktheboss





	Prince of the Sea

The ocean reaches for his body. He is struck down in some woods, just beyond the shoreline, while providing cover for some kids and their satyr to make it to a safe hiding place. A ripple is felt throughout the entirety of the ocean. 

Back and forth, it ebbs and flows. It stretches its tendrils towards him, desperately wanting to reach him in time. 

_come home, dear prince_.

It doesn’t reach him in time. 

_the prince has fallen_. _our defender is dead_. _our son has been taken_.

As his last breath leaves his body, waves around the world crash harshly against their shores. The tide rises above the shore line; it reaches into the forest’s edge without mercy. 

_where is our prince_. _give us our prince_. _we will have our prince_. 

With a final push, sea conquers land and the waves crash around him, embracing his body like a long lost relative; cradling him like a new born. 

_our sweet prince_. _our noble prince_. _if only we had been there to protect you_.

The waters seem to still, calming at his presence, and the tide carries him back to the shores of Camp Half-Blood like a procession of pallbearers. Ocean creatures of all types bow as he passes, paying their final respects to their finest protector in centuries. 

He is bone dry when the Sea places him on the shore of Long Island Sound with a great surge. As it slowly recedes, it laps at his hair, at his hands, at his feet, as if saying a final farewell. 

_goodbye_. _you served us well_. _we will not forget_. _we never forget_. 

For the next week, the Ocean mourns. Waves crash, and tear, and break, and hurt, until the shoreline is raw with pain. They carve his name into cliffsides and as his funeral pyre burns, the shoreline murmurs over and over again: 

_Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea_. 

Months have passed, and the water has calmed. It ebbs and flows. It storms. It propels. It harbors. It has no knowledge of what has been happening on land. No idea of how the world has carried on without the hero Percy Jackson in it. No clue as to who its next protector will be. 

Until one day, when a blonde woman with curls in her hair approaches the shoreline in Montauk. Her toes meet the edge of the water reluctantly, and she shivers at the sensation; the water seems to shiver back. Because the blonde woman is not alone. 

A tiny boy with golden wavy hair laughs as his toes touch the water for the first time, his hand clasped tightly around his mother’s finger and another ripple is felt throughout the entirety of the ocean. 

_a prince_. _a prince_. _a prince_. _a prince_. _a prince_. _a prince_. _a prince_. 

**_our prince_. **


End file.
